


Took You Long Enough

by s_a_m



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Future Fic, Gen, Once and Future King, Waking Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-03-02
Packaged: 2018-03-16 00:54:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3468332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/s_a_m/pseuds/s_a_m
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was Arthur Pendragon, King of Camelot, son of Uther and Ygraine, beloved of the people, Once and Future King of Albion and the first words he heard were:</p>
<p>“Took you long enough.”</p>
<p>'Honestly,' he thought hazily, 'I’m the bloody king. Who talks that way?'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Took You Long Enough

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all! This is my very first posting to this site, so I'm still working out the kinks. Let me know if you notice something weird formatting wise or if I've triggered a pet-peeve. 
> 
> All the best,  
> s_a_m

“Took you long enough.”

He was Arthur Pendragon, King of Camelot, son of Uther and Ygraine, beloved of the people, Once and Future King of Albion and the first words he heard were:

“Took you long enough.”

_Honestly_ , he thought hazily, _I’m the bloody king. Who talks that way?_

But even before Arthur heard a voice say “Took you long enough.” he stirred from a deep slumber and remembered. Rising up through a dark void towards a surface he could not perceive, he remembered. Everything passed before him like a vision, images in the void. The battlefield, the fear, the clash of sword on sword. Mordred, blue eyes icy with anger, with hatred, tall in chain mail Arthur had once pulled over his dark head himself.

He remembered without regret the moment of hesitation, of incredulity, before Mordred’s blade struck home. The feel of metal scraping and muscle splitting and bone breaking on his own blade as he cut into the flesh of a man who he still held dear, despite all, and heard in his head the final scream of an innocent girl. He remembered the pain. The feel of a chip of metal moving ever closer to his heart. A journey, long and desperate. And then death. And sleep.

He stirred from his slumber. “Took you long enough.” a familiar voice said.

But that was hardly all- battle and then Mordred and then death. Couldn’t be; there was more. A sense of betrayal so deep it ached still in his breast. Someone else, more than Mordred, so close, so trusted, so loved…

“Took you long enough.” said that warm voice as Arthur’s eyes fluttered for the first time. He opened them to a wide smile and he remembered. Barely capable, clumsy, thoughtless, stupid- a servant. A mere servant; who went on every hunt though he was useless, who followed on every hair-brained scheme, who came through at the most unlikely times, who he could trust above all others- above even himself, whose wisdom was never constant but always there when most needed, whose judgment was sound when his own faltered, whose heart was large enough to care for strangers, whose bravery was unmatched even by his own knights, who-

Was a sorcerer.

The agony of that sense of betrayal throbbed still in his heart. Black and ugly, damaging the golden view of the man- this man- who was the pinnacle of everything Arthur valued; loyalty, hard work, devotion, bravery and daring. Yet…

“Took you long enough.” The warm voiced teased when Arthur opened his eyes for the first time and saw that familiar smiling face, and remembered. Remembered the betrayal of that long kept secret and then…the reason, the words of his explanation echoing in his head now as he remembered, looking at that grinning face.

_I have magic. And I use it for you, Arthur, only for you._

The terrible pain in his heart was gone. He remembered the journey with the sliver of sword moving towards his heart. The hours he spent in his own memory, drawing up each and every strange coincidence, lucky win and flat out miracle. He compared them to this man. The way he acted almost like he’d been caught sometimes, or like he knew something that no one else did. The trips he took suddenly for herbs he never returned with and the times he happened to be in the right place at the right time to see something that was integral to whatever threat against the kingdom existed at the time. His endless willingness to give everything for the sake of Arthur and his kingdom. Time and time again, everything, for Arthur, always.

_I was born to serve you Arthur_ , he had said, _and I am proud of that._

How could he forget? Even for a moment as small as the time from opening his eyes to seeing the face. How could he forget?

“Took you long enough.” He said, grinning down at Arthur as he woke from his long slumber, thinking, _who talks that way?_ And Arthur remembered.

“I nearly forgot about you.” he whispered, voice grating, throat dry. A finger, calloused and solid and wide at the tip, lifted to his lips and gently wet them, letting the drops trickle onto Arthur’s dry tongue and down his throat. Not too much to choke him, not so little it parched him more, just enough. Perfect. An eyebrow quirked and the grin turned wry.

“Oh, that’s lovely.” He said archly, “I sit around for two or three thousand years making sure the lake doesn’t get filled in or the island doesn’t get blown up and you nearly forget me. Honestly, what are you? A bloody king or something?” A cool hand smoothed Arthur’s brow.

“Merlin.” The name rolled easily off his tongue.

“Yeah?” Another smile; easy, expectant, eager.

“Shut up.”

Merlin threw back his head and laughed. And Arthur smiled.


End file.
